


Son of Murphy

by Ladytalon



Category: Angel: the Series/Firefly
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-08
Updated: 2010-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladytalon/pseuds/Ladytalon





	Son of Murphy

  


  


  
  
  
**Title:** Son of Murphy  
**Author:** [](http://ladytalon1.livejournal.com/profile)[**ladytalon1**](http://ladytalon1.livejournal.com/)  
**Fandom/s:** Angel/Firefly  
**Pairing:** Marcus/Murphy's Law  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, not making any $$  
**Word Count:** 1,757  
**A/N:** Companion piece to [The Erotic Misadventures of Marcus Hamilton](http://ladytalon1.livejournal.com/137872.html#cutid1).

  


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______________________________

  
Marcus hummed to himself cheerfully as he left the office, not seeing the looks of wilting relief that the other employees gave his retreating form – it had been an excellent day. All five ritual sacrifices had gone off without a hitch, and he'd even paid Harmony a visit; even her incessant yapping failed to breach his composure because for once the curse that had plagued him ever since his dealing with _that woman_ seemed to have disappeared. He gave his reflection in a nearby window a smug smile as he walked down the hall and up to his rooms. Nothing could spoil his sense of serenity and- Marcus came to a startled halt as he came around the corner to see a bassinette sitting on his doorstep with a squalling bundle of…something… inside it.

_That had better not be what I think it is_, he thought with the beginnings of hysteria. Marcus eyed the wicker basket, inching closer as if it were an Aguidenarlus Demon inside - and for all he knew, that could very well be the case! Another lusty wail from within the swaddling cloth disabused him of this notion, and he brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. _That_ is _what I think it is. But is it_ who _I think it is?_ He mentally counted off the months since he'd seen her last, and alarm welled up sharply within him. It could very well be but if he had to get close enough to actually check, he'd wait until it was a lot quieter than it was being now.

When the crying bundle had finally grown silent – it had either fallen asleep or choked to death on its own tongue and Marcus fervently hoped for the latter – he walked as quietly as he knew how up to the bassinette and peered inside. Unfortunately, the child was only asleep and while most people would be instantly charmed by the lure of a sweetly slumbering infant, Marcus was disgusted. It was small, and pink, and smelly, and…waking up again! He beat a hasty retreat back down the hall as the sound of an extremely cranky baby filled the air, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek while wondering what he was supposed to do with it.

Marcus finally decided that while the child wasn't going to cry itself to death, the cacophony of its angry bawls might well drive him to commit suicide – and anyway, he'd noticed a stained scrap of paper pinned to the front of its shirt that was addressed to him. Steeling himself for the inevitable eruption (it was a well documented fact that babies loved nothing better than to spit up on strangers) he approached and bent to retrieve the note.  
"Marcus,

He's your responsibility now, you bastard.

Regards,  
Caitlyn M. Murphy"

Shit. It _was_ who he'd thought it was… His son.

The child's howls gradually trailed off into whimpers of distress as he realized that his diaper really _would_ have to change itself, and two pairs of identical blue eyes looked at each other warily. Their staring contest was interrupted by a loud trill of, "Hammy, baby, are you up here?" coming from the elevator.

_Shit_. Just one more example of what he didn't need like a hole in his head – Harmony. "I didn't send for you," he said in a tone that generally sent whoever heard it running for the hills.

Of course, it just made her more curious. "Look who's being Mr. Crankypants! What are you-oh, a _baby! _ How cuuuuuuuuute," Harmony cooed, bending low to examine the child. Straightening, she looked up at Marcus. "So, can I eat him?"

Marcus spluttered in surprise. "What? _No! _" If anyone was going to eat his son, it was going to be… well, it wasn't going to be him, but he'd find a suitable digestive tract for the little runt. Harmony prissed up her lips in disappointment, and a sudden idea hit him. "Take him down to the break room and make sure he doesn't…smell….anymore. And do something about _that_," he finished, motioning to the renewed cries the baby was emitting. On an afterthought, Marcus glared at her. "And if I see so much as a bruise _anywhere_, the janitors will have to vacuum you up."

"Oh, ew! But he's smelly," Harmony whined.

"You're the one who wanted to eat him seconds ago, so you must not have minded _that_ much," Marcus reminded the bimbo. "Now get him out of here. I'll come down for him when I'm finished looking something up." She left, holding the bassinette at arm's length, and Marcus glared down at the crumpled note in his fist. It would figure that Cate would fob off their son onto him. She hadn't even named him, apparently. He wasn't quite sure why he even cared about it.

Walking through his door, Marcus headed straight for his collection of grimoires and pulled one after another down to page through them. He quickly found what he was looking for in one of the more obscure texts and stared triumphantly at the runes on the page that informed him of the proper course of action when dealing with Murphy's Curse. Yes, he believed the solution suited him just fine.

He left the book open to the relevant page and went down to retrieve the boy from the Wolfram and Hart employee breakroom. The chorus of female coos and inane babytalk nearly made him turn on his heel and march right back to the safety of his own office, but Marcus forced himself to go in the door anyway. It seemed as if every female employee at the firm was inside making ridiculous faces of adoration at his son, who was just lapping up all the attention. He felt a moment of pride and the expression _Chip off the old block_ popped into his head for some reason before the big liaison shook his head to clear it and reached for the baby carrier that had appeared from nowhere to replace the bassinette. "Show's over, ladies."

The sight of him with a baby in his arms gave rise to another wave of "Awwwwwwww" and Harmony sighed dreamily as she joined the others in staring up at him. "What's his name, Hamm- I mean, Mister Hamilton?"

Marcus blinked in surprise as he pushed the door open – he hadn't even thought of naming his unwelcome little guest, but it seemed as if he had to. "His name is….Murphy."

"Awwwww, Murphy! That's soooo cu-" the words cut off abruptly as the door slammed behind him.

Lugging the baby carrier back up to his rooms, Marcus studied the text a few more times to make sure the solution he'd found was the correct one. Opening the portal, Marcus smiled grimly at the tiny infant who looked back up at him adoringly through eyes that were mirrors of his own. "Goo!" the child gurgled, waving pudgy arms happily as if he hadn't a care in the world. Well, he wouldn't have a care in _this_ world much longer, because Marcus was about to send him on a one-way trip to another dimension.

He set the carrier down on the floor and put his hands on his hips, staring down at his son who was still carrying on and having a fine time. A feeling totally alien to him began to surface and Marcus looked down into those wide, trusting blue eyes as he tried to classify it. _Perhaps….perhaps I should just keep…_

"Goo?" Murphy Hamilton asked.

Suddenly, Marcus knew exactly what he had to do. Drawing back one foot, he then released it in a kick that struck the child carrier and sent it and the last Murphy hurtling through the dimensional portal and out of his life forever. A snap of his fingers closed the portal and Marcus brushed his hands together in a satisfied manner as he turned to the door. Maybe that lovely young redhead down in Accounting was still there…

  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
"Jedd? Jedd, you ain't gonna believe what I just found out there in th' field!" the woman called, bustling in the door and cradling her burden carefully.

Her husband looked up from oiling his guns and cocked a grizzled brow. "Whatcha got there, Ellen?"

She went over to show him. "Can ya believe, someone just _left_ 'im out there? He coulda died from 'sposure for true, what with the weather we been havin'!"

Jedd scratched the side of his nose and peered down at the child, who was fast asleep. "Cute lil' 'un, ain't he? What you reckon needs doin' 'bout him?"

Ellen drew in a deep breath and thrust the baby into her startled husband's arms. "I know we should probably give him over to th' orphanage, what with how we've got our own on the way" she gestured to her swollen stomach "but what d'ya say if'n we keep 'im? Be good practice."

"_Keep_ him? Ellie, I dunno." Jedd tried to pass him back. The child woke up and blinked sleepily up at his unwilling handler, and the man was charmed despite himself at how blue the baby's eyes were. "Well, mebbe for a few days but then we gotta take him into town an' see if'n anyone's short a baby," he said as if it had been his intention all along.

Ellen took the little boy back from her husband and rocked him gently as he began to fuss. "He's hungry as can be, look at 'im! Oh, he's real shiny, this 'un." After she'd found a bottle in the cabinet she was keeping all her baby things in and filled it up with the milk they had on hand, their unexpected guest drank hungrily and was shortly drifting off to sleep in her arms. "Well, even if'n we gotta take him into town he needs to have a name of his own," Ellen decided firmly.

Jedd smiled at how naturally his wife had taken over the role of motherhood – which was a good thing, since she was due in less than a month – and thought carefully. If he took on a few extra shifts at the mine, they might be able to afford the new addition as long as no one claimed him. "Well, you just pick whatever ya think is best, _ai ren_."

His wife cooed down at the sleepy baby in her arms. "I think we should call 'im….Jayne."

~_fin_~  
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A/N the Second: The names of Jayne's parents were lovingly borrowed from [](http://mercsgoodgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**mercsgoodgirl**](http://mercsgoodgirl.livejournal.com/) and [](http://bookaddict43.livejournal.com/profile)[**bookaddict43**](http://bookaddict43.livejournal.com/). ♥


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